The Ocean Between Us
by Andromeda Rising
Summary: It's not the Dark Ocean calling to you that you should fear; it's the voice inside of you that answers. —Daikari, Kenyako


Andromeda Rising

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Author's Note: This is a story I've been working on for a long time now, and though it remains incomplete to date, I finally feel ready to share it. What started as a lighthearted attempt at a romantic comedy has turned into, well... what it is now, that is, a darker and more personal account of Hikari's (and Ken's, inevitably) struggle with the Dark Ocean. It's a theme that always draws me in and I hope you'll enjoy reading it. This chapter was last edited 03/16/2017.

Special thanks to Tanya Takaishi, who has patiently looked over many versions of this story through the years. I don't think I would have ever attempted to finish this story if it wasn't for your continued support.

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Chapter One

That night, Hikari dreamed of the dark place for the first time in years, a place she had once sworn never to return.

Waves crashed onto the shore, crawling towards her feet, then stealing away again. She knew she should be afraid, but for once, she was not scared. She felt at peace as she walked towards the water. Another wave broke more violently against the shore, swirling around her ankles and destabilizing her. She tilted forward but caught herself before she fell, walking slowly—the water seemed to be resisting against her—until she was waist deep in the water.

She waited for a wave to crash into her, watching rolling towards her from a long way away. When it did, she let herself go, she stopped fighting, letting her muscles relax—and she did not know if she would sink or swim. The water thrashed her about, took her away from the shore, invaded her mouth, her lungs, her eyes—the salt stung and she couldn't open them. She opened her mouth in a soundless scream. Her limbs grew heavy; she began to sink like a stone; and when she finally hit the bottom, her eyes snapped open.

She gasped for air, placing her hand at the base of her throat. It was a dream. Her heart pounded and her pulse raced and her skin was covered with a cold sweat but she was safe, she was _home_ , it had all been just a dream.

 _Home._ _Safe and sound._ Here in this world, not in that other one. She closed her eyes but the images still seemed to dance there and she opened her eyes again; she lay there, staring into the darkness of her room, eyes slowly adjusting until she could make out the silhouettes of the things in her room. _Home. Safe and sound._ She repeated it to herself like a mantra.

When she located her phone on the bedside next to her, it read 3:34 AM.

This was not the first time that week that she'd woken up in the middle of the night from one of those dreams. She kicked the covers away from herself, suddenly too hot, and then suddenly too cold. She'd forgotten to close the window—it had been raining when she'd fallen asleep, and perhaps that was what prompted the dream. It had to be.

Hikari got up and went to shut the window, turning away from it quickly, too afraid to look outside. She turned on all of the lights in the apartment, walking from her room to the living room to the kitchen and then finally the bathroom. Even under a steaming hot shower, she couldn't seem to coax the warmth back into her skin, she couldn't wash away the taste of salt on her lips.

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Hikari carried that feeling with her the rest of the day, unable to shrug it off. So when Miyako sent her a text about an emergency situation, she left the school as quickly as she could and arrived out of breath at the front door of her sister's apartment.

"What's the emergency?"

Miyako had her coat folded over one arm and her purse over the other. She held herself tensely, waiting in the hallway by the front door, shoulders hunched together. She had already put her shoes on.

"Oh, there is none," Miyako said, laughing lightly, but it sounded forced. "Except for my sisters being _total_ nightmares."

"You scared me," Hikari said. "You know you shouldn't cry wolf like that, Miyako. You do it enough times, and people stop believing you…"

"Save it, Hikari," Miyako said, making a face to communicate her displeasure, as if her words weren't enough.

"Children's stories aren't only for children," Hikari said, and when Miyako looked up from her phone with a raised eyebrow, Hikari laughed. "I'm teasing you, Miyako. I know you're stressed out right now—"

" _Thank_ you," Miyako said, shoving her phone into the depths of her bag. "I'm not joking when I say that wedding planning should be a full-time gig."

Hikari resisted the urge to point out that it was, in fact, a job title that already existed. "What can I do?"

"Actually, would you mind driving me home? Ken was supposed to pick me up, but he texted me to tell me he's working overtime again."

"Okay. Sure. I'm just going to go say hi to your sisters first, okay?"

"Why?" Miyako said in a sullen voice.

"Because it would be rude of me not to." Hikari slipped her shoes off and, before Miyako could protest, darted towards the kitchen.

The atmosphere between Miyako's two elder sisters was considerably calmer than Miyako herself had been, and Hikari couldn't help but wonder what had made her so agitated. Momoe sat by the kitchen table with her daughter on her lap, feeding her apple sauce from a jar while Chizuru stood at the island in the center of the kitcen, pouring herself a glass of white wine.

"I'm going to take Miyako home—I just wanted to say hi," Hikari said. The toddler turned her big, doleful brown eyes on her and Hikari waved at her, crouching down to give her a wave. "Hi, Mariko, hi!"

"Ka-ri! Ka-ri!" The little girl hadn't quite mastered her name yet, and her mother smiled fondly at her, handing her wordlessly to Hikari.

"Have you grown in the last week?" Hikari said, laughing when Mariko took a fistful of her hair and tried to chew on it. "No, Mari," she said, gently extricating her hair from Mariko's small fist. "Sorry I'm late, I wanted to help set everything up, but—"

"What are you apologizing for?" Momoe said, turning around in her seat.

"We should be apologizing," Chizuru added. "Or maybe thanking you for taking Miyako off our hands. I'm not sure which." She held up the bottle of wine. "Are you sure you don't want a glass of wine before you go?"

"I'm okay, thanks." Hikari looked between the two of them. "Are you sure there's nothing I can do to help?"

"No, Hikari. Go. You've done more than enough." Momoe waved her off, taking the toddler from Hikari's arms gently. "We can handle the rest."

"We all know Miyako's the hard part anyway," Chizuru said quietly over the rim of her glass.

"Don't start again, Chizuru, please," Momoe said, giving her a meaningful look over the top of her daughter's head as she bounced her up and down on her leg.

"Well, anyway, you guys have done a beautiful job with the space. It's really coming together."

"It is, isn't it?" Momoe said.

"Now if only we could get to the big day so it'd all be over already…" Chizuru raised her glass in a mock toast.

"I'll see you guys tomorrow then," Hikari said with a pleasant smile, waving them good-bye. "Good luck with everything!"

"Same to you," Chizuru called. "You're the one that's really going to need it."

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"Well, I don't see why she had to be _such_ a bitch about it," Miyako said with a dramatic sigh as she viciously stabbed at the button that would summon the elevator.

"About what, Miyako?"

Miyako sighed, shaking her head. She hadn't explained or given any context. Hikari had inferred that the three sisters had had an argument—not uncommon for Chizuru and Momoe, but for them to team up against Miyako was unusual.

"Chizuru is just jealous." Miyako continued to jab at the button. "She's jealous that she's not married by now and she's older than me so she _should_ be—"

Hikari put a hand on Miyako's and lowered it before she could break the elevator. "I think you're taking your anger out on the wrong thing. Why don't you tell me what's going on?"

"I don't want to talk about it, Hikari," Miyako said, letting out a long beleaguered sigh and closing her eyes. "Not right now, anyway. Can we talk about it tomorrow?"

"Okay… That's fine," Hikari said, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Just… take care of yourself when you get home. Relax. Think about something else for a change. It's all going to work out, so stop overthinking everything."

"Easier said than done." Miyako's grimace shifted into a smile as she turned to to look out of the window next to the elevator. "But I'll try."

A heavy rain fell over Tokyo Bay, dimming the bright lights of the city and making it look as if it had been plunged underwater after night had fallen. The elevator finally arrived at their floor with a _ping_ before the doors slid soundlessly open. Miyako continued to take out her rage on the poor buttons, stabbing at the B1 button and crossing her arms while she leaned against the wall.

"Hey, thanks for coming to save me," Miyako said. "You're a real knight in shining armor."

"And you're a real princess in distress."

They both laughed.

"We're perfect for each other," Miyako said.

"That we are."

"What would I do without you?" Miyako said, watching the floors change as the elevator took them from the penthouse to the basement. She shook her head. "I would be a disaster. There's so much _pressure_ for everything to be—well—perfect. And it's not going to be. It's going to be a disaster, I just know it."

"No, it's not," Hikari said. "It'll be fine. Maybe not perfect, but just fine." She wrinkled her nose. "Anyway, it's nothing that a bubble bath can't fix. Add in a glass of wine or two—"

"—Maybe a whole bottle—"

"And a foot massage?" Hikari said teasingly.

"I doubt anyone's home right now, but that would be lovely," Miyako said, closing her eyes and tipping her head back against the wall.

Hikari studied Miyako face for a moment—with her eyes closed and face trained into a neutral expression, she yielded nothing, though there had been a slight undertone of bitterness in her words.

"Don't go to sleep just yet," Hikari said as the elevator doors slid open. "We're almost there."

In the parking lot, Hikari found her car instantly among all of the nicer, newer ones—it was a faded, reddish-orange color with rust around the rims and door handles that made it easily identifiable. Taichi had once called it a 'janky hunk of junk not fit for the road _or_ for his little sister' once when he'd thought she was out of earshot, but she loved that little car. It had gotten her to so many places.

Miyako struggled with getting the passenger door open.

Hikari watched her flail, using both arms to try to open it in her rage. "You _really_ need to find an outlet for that pent-up anger."

"No, you need to get a new car." Miyako sighed, releasing the handle. "I'm sorry… I just… I feel like nothing is coming together the way I want it to. No one is helping me. I mean, except you. Only half the people responded to the invite, and I sent it out a month ago! It's past the deadline now!"

Hikari raised her eyebrows. "Who hasn't responded?"

"Where do I begin? There's Jyou, then _your brother_ —"

"Oh, Taichi'll be there, believe me. Free food and free booze?" Hikari said as she went around the side of the car and, after jiggling the doorknob, it swung open. "I don't think Jyou would miss it, either, unless there's some sort of emergency at the hospital. You know, a _real_ emergency."

Miyako ignored her, and after Hikari climbed into the driver's seat, she continued her tirade. "And I _still_ haven't even heard back from Daisuke or Mimi. I honestly expected more from them."

"I assume they're coming," Hikari said. "I mean, when is the last time either of them have RSVP'd to anything? Mimi just shows up on your doorstep and expects to be accommodated."

Miyako laughed dryly. "That's true. God, I can't wait to see her tomorrow, it's been too long"

"Anyway…" Hikari turned the key in the ignition. "If one shows up, the other probably won't be far behind." She paused, remembering something else that might cheer Miyako up. "Mimi will probably bring Michael, too."

"Oh, _Michael_. Michael, Michael, Michael…" Miyako had stars in her eyes and she clasped her hands together, as if he had materialized in front of her. "I forgot about him. Those _eyes…_ They could hypnotize you."

Hikari raised an eyebrow. "Hmm? Is that so?"

"Oh, please. I'm always going to be lusting after people I shouldn't. Even Ken knows this and has accepted it."

Hikari laughed—it was a hysterical laugh, a laugh of disbelief, that bubbled out of her and made her feel as if she were weightless.

"What? I just like pretty people!"

Hikari shook her head. "I know you do."

She fiddled with the radio—it could be just as tricky as the handle of the passenger door—as they drove out of the underground parking lot. The radio crackled with static as they drove through a rain that battered the windshield mercilessly, the wipers working so frantically Hikari thought they might fly off at any moment.

"Hey, I'm sorry for showing up so late, by the way," Hikari said. "I got held up at school. It's the end of semester so I've been working longer hours. We're going to have a graduation ceremony for the kids and everything tomorrow."

"School… School?" Miyako said. "Oh—right. I'm the worst friend. I totally forgot that you were at work. Huh. Wow. You're going to have a busy day."

"I know, it's going to be _exhausting_ ," Hikari said sarcastically. "Anyway, I'm excited. It'll be nice to see everyone. It'll be nice to have a break, too, but I don't know what I'm going to do with myself."

"Tell me about it. I'm going crazy at home. Everyone seems to be working these days but me and it's driving me nuts."

"Not true," Hikari said. "The 'bum,' as you called him, is still looking for a job."

"Oh, please don't tell Takeru I said that," Miyako said. "I was just joking."

"I know. It'll be our little secret." Hikari winked at her. "I mean, technically, it's not true. He's doing some freelance stuff."

" _Technically_ , that counts as unemployed. I would know, since that's the only work I'm getting these days. It's so _boring_."

Hikari glanced at the rearview mirror then at Miyako. She wanted to poke fun at her friend for her sullen disposition—usually, teasing Miyako made her realize how she was spinning a totally normal situation into an unnecessarily melodramatic one—but Miyako turned to stare at the window, at the rivulets of water cascading down the window.

"Why don't you tell me what's _really_ wrong?" Hikari tried to keep her eyes on the road, but she had to glance at Miyako again when there was no reply. "I know something's up, and it's not just you fighting with your sisters. Is it because Ken's been working more hours at the station?"

"No. Well—yes. Yes and no."

Hikari raised her eyebrows. "Which is it?"

"It's just… Lately…" Miyako leaned her head against the glass, turning to look at Hikari. "I don't know, the closer the wedding gets, the more I feel Ken… Oh, I don't know… I feel like he's pulling away from me."

"I'm sure that's not true."

"I don't know. I mean, sometimes I feel like I see _you_ more than I see him. Maybe I'm imagining it…" Miyako let out a sigh, closed her eyes. "I just wish he would let me in. We're about to get married. If we can't communicate, how is this ever going to work?"

"What did I say about it all working out?"

Miyako nodded and said nothing more, turning to stare out the window. They drove on in silence, with only the sound of the rain hitting the roof and the radio turned down low, until Hikari turned into the crescent-shaped driveway in front of Miyako's apartment building.

Miyako put a hand on the door and stared out at the droplets of rain sluicing down the window. "I don't want to go in."

Hikari opened her mouth to ask why, but then Miyako squared her shoulders, turned to her, gave her a faint smile, and said, "See you tomorrow—and make sure you wear _that_ dress."

"Which dress?"

"The _sexy_ dress, Hikari. I _know_ you know the one I'm talking about, don't even try me."

"There's no way—"

But Miyako was already gone in a flash of violet hair nearly whipping Hikari in the face as she quickly climbed out of the car. She held her purse over her head as a makeshift umbrella, disappearing into the curtain of rain moments later.

Just as Hikari pressed on the gas, there was a loud bang against the passenger side's window. Her heart jumped into her throat and her foot slammed on the brakes, jerking her forward in her seat. Her heart, too, felt like it had jumped with her, taking a seat at the back of her throat. She leaned over the passenger seat and rolled down the window, revealing Miyako's soaked figure. The image that had jumped into Hikari's mind of a dark faceless figure faded away.

"Miyako, you scared the hell out me! Did you forget something?"

"Hikari—I'm sorry," Miyako said. She glanced over her shoulder, slinging her purse higher onto it. She seemed to have resigned herself to getting wet, her thin jacket already soaked through while limp strands of hair stuck to her forehead. She leaned through the passenger window. "I've had this on my mind all day and I didn't have the courage to ask until now. What I meant to ask you is—that is, I don't know how to say this..."

She stood shivering in front of Hikari, looking unsure as she bit down on her lip, glancing over her shoulder again. "Has Ken mentioned anything to you about an ocean? You know, _the_ ocean?"

All the blood felt like it was draining from Hikari's face, which she tried to mask with an unsure smile, afraid that her every emotion would be legible on her face. "No, he hasn't..." She said, carefully choosing her words so she wouldn't reveal anything. "Why?"

"I don't know, I just... Well. He never talks about it. I thought he might've mentioned it to you, since you guys talk about that stuff. I was thinking maybe that's why he…"

"He hasn't said anything," Hikari said again.

"Okay." Miyako gave Hikari a radiant smile, seeming to be genuinely relieved, and a little more like herself. "Thanks, Hikari. That… That helps."

And without further explanation Miyako turned again and vanished into the darkness and the rain. Hikari only saw her again when she reached the door, lit by the glow cast through the lobby doors, and then she was gone.

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Miyako was surprised to find the apartment dark when she returned, her hand fumbling along the wall to find the light switch. She peered through the kitchen as she passed by, the light from the hallway glinting off the shiny tiles of the island that stood in the middle of their kitchen. It wasn't a mess of dirty dishes and cutlery and wedding magazines, for once, which meant that Ken must be home by now. He never could stand uncleanliness and disorganization in the kitchen—in any space, really.

Miyako turned off the hallway light to see if light filtered from underneath the door of Ken's office, and it did. She felt anger surge up in the pit of her stomach, acidic as bile. As she peeled off her jacket, sticking to her like a second skin, she was angry at him for always coming home from work late. She was even in an unreasonable enough mood to blame the terrible weather and her soaked clothes on him. But when she passed by the darkened kitchen again she felt guilty—he was always at work to support _her_ , and he even was willing to clean up her messes. Nobody else was willing to put up with her the way he did.

She crossed to the other side of the hallway to his office, knocking, and when there was no answer, she gingerly opened the door, holding it with one hand so that it didn't open too wide.

"Hi," she said with a small, tentative smile.

And even though she was angry with him seconds ago, it fizzled out like fire under rain when he looked up at her. He looked confused to see her, and frazzled, some of the hair he'd tucked into a ponytail at the nape of his neck slipping out around his face. The only light on in the room came from the lamp on his desk, bent over a spread of paper that fanned out over open folders. A neat pile of folders was stacked next to his work, though it sat precariously close to the edge of the desk.

"Oh, hi, Miyako. You're home late."

"I had some last-minute details to run through for tomorrow." She deliberately did not mention her fight with her sisters. "Are you excited?"

He nodded.

"You could show _some_ enthusiasm," Miyako said, her tone just shy of chiding.

"The party doesn't really mean much to me," he said quietly. "I'm just excited to have the night off to spend with you."

She smiled, remembering suddenly why she was marrying this man, then nodded at the paper work. "You're really white-knuckling it, huh?"

He seemed to relax visibly when she approached, taking his elbows off the desk and placing them on the armrests of his chair instead. A smile played on his lips as he watched her. "If I want to take the night off tomorrow, I've got to get through this pile of paper work first."

"The glamorous life of a detective," she said, stopping just short of his desk. She reached over to close the folder over the papers. "Can't it wait until Monday?"

But before she could, he moved a hand over hers, taking her wrist gently and moving it away.

"What?" she teased. "Is there something I'm not supposed to see?"

He kissed her knuckles, and then her fingertips.

"You're shivering," he said, and only then did she notice how clammy her skin was, how her hand trembled in his. "Why don't you go change into something more comfortable?"

"Okay."

She retracted her hand, unsure about what he meant. Was he suggesting something, or was he being very literal?

She went to their bedroom, leaving the door ajar. She half expected, and half hoped, that he would stop working and that he'd come join her in the bedroom as she was stripping off her clothes. She waited by the door, but when there was no sound or movement, she sighed and dug through her drawers to find the baggiest pajamas she could find. She wasn't going to tempt him away from work, at least for the moment.

After showering, she changed her mind and slipped into a camisole and matching shorts made of magenta-colored silk. As she passed his office on the way to the kitchen, she saw that he was still buried in paperwork once more, and hardly glanced up at her when she passed by.

She lingered at the door, wanting to ask him if something was the matter, but she already knew the answer: _No, Miyako, nothing is wrong. Don't worry about me._

 _It's all in your head_ , she told herself. _Nothing is wrong._

"Want some coffee?" she said, instead of asking what she really wanted to.

When she returned with a coffee for him—black, no sugar or cream, whereas she took hers with a copious amount of milk and sugar to take off the bitter edge—she took out her own laptop and settled into the armchair behind him, by the window that she opened to hear the sound of the rain. She hated being caught in the rain without an umbrella, but the sound of it filtering through the window when she was warm and comfortable and ensconced in an armchair put her to sleep, as easy as a lullaby.

But she felt wide awake. She opened up her email and stared at her inbox without clicking on anything, replaying the conversation that she had had with Hikari in her mind. Miyako believed Hikari, but she wasn't sure if she believed Ken when he told her to her face that nothing was wrong while he refused to meet her eyes.

She looked up and watched him stare into the coffee cup that trembled in his hand as he took a sip, setting it back down on the desk. But he didn't return to his work for a few moments, staring into the dark coffee like he was seeing something else.

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And Hikari, as she drove home, remembered a conversation that had taken place a long time ago.

It was true that she and Ken had not discussed the ocean in a long time. The last time that they had talked about it seemed so far away, when they were still just children, innocent to what it could mean for both of them to be drawn to that world long after they both thought they had overcome it.

She couldn't place exactly when it had taken place; she couldn't even remember at first who had been there. Daisuke, Takeru, Miyako, and Iori were all probably there, but what remembered most vividly was Ken, the conversation they had had by the edge of the water.

Yes, that was it—they had gone to the beach that day. The day came to her in fragments. She remembered more clearly now, remembered Daisuke making fun of Miyako's cow-print bathing suit. She bragged that at seventeen she could still fit into something she'd worn when she was twelve, but all it took for Daisuke to deflate her ego was to moo at her. It predictably ended in a fight where Miyako chased Daisuke into the surf, slapping water at him and trying to push him under the water. It wasn't clear who had lost, if anyone had lost at all, and the chase continued—and ended—when Daisuke disgracefully tripped over the sandcastle Takeru and Iori had been laboring over for hours. It was still unclear whether it was on purpose or not. By that time the sun was setting and everyone was grumpy about getting the sand getting absolutely everywhere (it was in their hair, in their mouths, and most uncomfortable of all, in their bathing suit bottoms), so they decided to look for a place to eat.

Hikari had trailed behind the others as they walked along the sidewalk on the pretense that she had sand in her shoes, but in truth, her feet had stopped her in the middle of the path, turning her back towards the beach as if they had a mind of their own.

For in a certain light, when the sun was on the edge of the horizon and blinding in its brightness, Hikari thought it was possible to see two worlds in one, as if the two were coexistent, somehow both occupying the same place at once. Hikari closed her eyes, and she was in the same place, but it was as if all of the color had bled out from the world.

Ken was the only one in their group who had stopped walking. The rest of them had continued along, too absorbed either in a conversation on an argument—she couldn't remember which—she only knew that he had stopped. She knew without even having to turn to see who it was; she could feel his presence, somehow. She could hear the others moving away, their voices growing more distant.

"You can still see it, too, can't you?" he said.

"Sometimes," she said, finally turning her head to look at him. "Do you think it'll ever go away?"

He turned his head to look at the waters, as if they would yield an answer. Then he gave a slight shake of his head.

"Why not?"

"Because it isn't out there," he said. "It's inside of us."

The tide was coming in, advancing towards their feet, then stealing away again. The last rays of the sun were visible, washing the sky in bursts of orange and pink and violet; the thin clouds looked like golden filaments stretched across the sky. Here the world was all lit up, but just beyond the horizon, where the ocean served as a distorted mirror to the sky, Hikari thought it was possible could glimpse was a hidden world if she squinted hard enough.

In a certain light, the world fractured and came apart, and the darkness that showed through the cracks consumed everything.

"I'd never thought of that," she said.

He closed his eyes, tilting his head as if he, too, was craning his ear to listen to the sounds that came from elsewhere—subtle, but detectable beneath the call of the gulls and the sounds of the city behind them.

"It's just something we're going to have learn to live with." He looked serene, as if he'd long ago made peace with that fact, though Hikari couldn't be sure if he really had or not.

"Come on," Hikari said, looking over her shoulder to see that the others had gotten very far away from them. "Let's go before they notice."

She always thought the monsters lurked around corners, that they were without, not within. Was she lying to herself, when she claimed not to know what drew her to that world, again and again, like a siren call, so powerful, irresistible, that even sailors drowned who'd heard it…?

They walked back towards the others in silence. Through the years, Hikari had gotten to know Ken—the _real_ Ken—through fragmentary glimpses, as they never seemed to have much to say each other. Still, they found small moments of togetherness when memory pulled them inexorably back towards that place. It was only in those small moments, stolen away from the others, that she glimpsed the side of him that he didn't like to show to most other people. And she wondered, not for the first time, how well you could really know someone.

Were others unknowable—even when we let them in, let them shine light on the darkest parts of ourselves? And sometimes, she wondered if their shared silence conveyed more meaning than words ever could.

.

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When Hikari was home, she went to turn on all of the lights in the apartment, one by one, ending in her room. She realized, belatedly, the real reason why Miyako did not want to go home. She did not want to be alone.


End file.
